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I can think of at least one job I lost because of drinking. I drove a mini-bus; I had just started the job a week earlier. I was out partying all night, spent the night with a boyfriend, and just decided not to get up the next morning, leaving all those kids and mothers looking out the door for the bus that would never show up.

I can recall a time of drinking all night and not getting home in time for my then husband to leave for work at 3:45. Our little daughter was about two years old, and he was waiting for me to get home so he could leave. But I was miles away and still wanted to party. I can remember countless days and nights in bed; sick, throwing up and unable to function after nights of drinking. I can remember disappointing my daughter on at least two occasions; when I was supposed to go to the movies with her and her dad, and I was too hungover, and another time when I’d gone out in the afternoon with a friend and was supposed to be home to take her to McDonalds. But drinking won out on both of these occasions.

I can remember calling relatives whom I hadn't spoken to in ages, just like one of my aunt's used to do. My parents would laugh every time she called, knowing she only called when she was hammered.

I'm reading this and thinking, "My God." How could think I'm not an alcoholic. I can justify it by saying, "I don't do it all the time." I have been extremely lucky never to get a DWI. How that's possible, I don't know. Only by God's grace.

I finally got disgusted with it and when I moved from New York to Pennsylvania, almost nine years ago, I recommitted my life to God, and did very well not drinking for about six years. I have never attended an AA meeting, though I've thought about it.

It was easier to give it up here because 7-11's, gas stations and grocery stores did not sell beer, my all time favorite drink, as they did in New York. I never felt tempted to go into a bar and buy a six-pack, and buying a case was out of the question because of 1) the cost and 2) it was far too dangerous for me to buy a case because of the risk that I'd drink the whole thing. I do recall drinking 19 beers at home by myself one night when I did buy a case.

A few years ago I met my now ex-boyfriend and we started going out to bars, something I hadn't done here at all before I'd met him. Ironically, he didn't drink. He wasn’t an alcoholic, just something wrong with his heart that prevented him from drinking. He liked going to the bars because he could gamble on those poker machines. Another story there. He knew I enjoyed my beer and would often bring me home a six-pack. But once I’d have the six-pack, I’d want more. This led to him making additional trips to a bar later on. One time I even sneaked out and asked my neighbor upstairs whom we were friendly with for a ride to a bar. My ex later terrified the guy, screaming at him when he found out he’d driven me. My neighbor and I weren’t really on too friendly terms after that fiasco.

There have been times when I have gone out to eat, had a couple beers or glasses of wine with the meal and didn't feel the need to keep drinking until I was obliviated. That is how I can justify that I don't have a problem, I suppose. But it seems once I go beyond a few drinks, I can't stop.

I have a 19-year-old daughter who lost a friend in a drunk driving accident; a total of three young people were killed in the accident that night, and another seriously injured. At the time, I was in my dry period. I was so touched by the death, I got involved in my daughter’s schools anti-drinking and driving campaign. I even spoke at her high school and another school’s assembly about not drinking and driving. I pointed out that I had a permanent scar on my forehead from a car accident in which my then best friend was driving drunk, and I was a passenger. Many students came up to me and thanked me for my speech and were very touched. If only they knew what I've been up to lately.

One night at a local neighborhood bar, I invited everyone in the place to come and party at my house. I had all kinds of people over my apartment that I didn’t know; I was lucky nothing was stolen.

A week ago I had a job interview (I'm looking for a second part-time job) and afterwards decided to treat myself to a nice lunch. It started out fine; I went to a nice restaurant, sat at the bar, had a few glasses of wine and a nice meal, and finished off with one of those flavored coffee drinks. I should have gone home. But there it was: that uncontrollable urge to keep on drinking.

I left the restaurant and began making the rounds to bars within a mile of my home. Isn't it wise of me to drink and drive close to home? Surely this is OK! I made a big scene in one of the bars when I thought my purse had been stolen; it turned out it was on the floor next to a game I’d been playing. Later, when I was leaving, I went back in the bar because I couldn’t find my keys. How could I? I’d started drinking at around 4 p.m. and it was now 1 a.m. Nine hours of drinking. If I’d have been pulled over, I’d have blown the breathalyzer to kingdom come. Did I go home? No, I went to yet another bar, because there was still an hour of drinks to go!

I went to my traditional “last stop,” a bar that is primarily a twenty-something hangout. I seem to end up there every time I go on a binge. I’ve embarrassed myself there a few times. The police even came in one time and made me leave.

Anyway, I sat at a table where apparently there was a group together. I didn’t belong at the table, but I didn’t care. Finally, the place was closing and I made my way home. How I drove home in that state, I don’t know.

I had to work the next day.

I work weekends and I really like the job. But being there hungover was just torture. I went through the day praying to just get through it; praying I wouldn’t throw up on someone, or all over the desk. I can’t remember being that sick, that hungover, for a long time. I somehow made it through the day and almost the instant I got home, I puked my guts up, the remnants of the previous day’s lunch visible.

I thought about what would have happened to me had I been caught driving. Jail, lawyers, court dates, my good driving record ruined. Money that I certainly didn’t have, to defend myself for something that is indefensible.

Just one month earlier, I had vowed I would not drink and drive and go out to bars anymore. That night too, had started out as lunch and ended up an all-night drinkfest. I even wrote it down in my little calendar so I would remember my “last night out.”

I am a Christian. A born again Christian. I have amazing testimonies of God’s grace and blessings in my life. I could write pages of what He’s done in my life. Every time I make the promise not to drink “like that” anymore, I make a promise to the Lord and ask for his help. But it is the thorn in my side. My weakness. How can someone regret something so much, every time they do it, and keep doing it? This is what I struggle with.

And so, I am putting it in writing this time and hoping to hear from people who have been down this road. I realize I have a problem. I want to stop.